


in the moon and plum blossom

by qelos (midheaven)



Series: a song is fireworks [7]
Category: Nogizaka46 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28141740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midheaven/pseuds/qelos
Summary: but she looks familiar, and you try and remember, try and dig out—“umezawa.” you blink, surprised yourself.mizuki and minami tend to meet when they least expect to.
Relationships: Umezawa Minami/Yamashita Mizuki
Series: a song is fireworks [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912633
Kudos: 6





	in the moon and plum blossom

**Author's Note:**

> finally got around to writing this with the end of my semester nearing! me shipping these two actually started as a funny inside joke between me and a very close friend. our headcanons of them were always pretty much made in jest, because we started almost two years ago, back when minami and mizuki never so much as looked at each other. (and when they did, they very much carried the energy of two-people-who-work-in-different-locations-of-the-same-company-and-just-met-at-the-annual-convention.) but then eizouken happened, and then boku suki (! oh my god, mizuki is centre) happened, and now they _have interactions_. which just blows me and oomf’s mind.

春もやゝ  
けしきとゝのふ  
月と梅 

your sleeve hangs loose off your arm, but the air is still heavy. sweat beads on the back of your neck and is sticky in your skin. night has fallen but the heat still unforgiving. 

and there—the telltale smell of smoke. and then the slight hiss and the loud boom. colours exploding in the sky. 

“oh, _look_ ,” minami exhales. she’s smiling and the lights tint her face all kinds of colours. 

you smile and you _ache,_ because she’s beautiful, in her yukata and her hair tied, her cheeks flushed in the heat. you wish to hold her everywhere at once. want her skin under your palm, her hair between her fingers, her head in your arms. 

you feel like the fireworks may as well be happening inside your chest. 

  
  


it hit you, one afternoon. a splash of cold water on a sleepy day. 

the teachers’ room is crowded. club captains all trying to get their budgets for next year approved by their advisors. you wait, patiently, your proposal in hand, when you’re nearly knocked onto the ground by a hit on your shoulder. 

“oh!” a voice exclaims. “i’m sorry.”

she had held out her arm and you’d steadied yourself on it. instinct. you look and see who it is and—

she’s gorgeous. really. a hundred and seventy centimeters of breathtaking beauty. but she looks familiar, and you try and remember, try and dig out—

“umezawa.” you blink, surprised yourself. 

she smiles. “ah—yeah, that’s me. i’m surprised you remember. yamashita, right?”

your parents are friends. you’ve met twice, maybe thrice in middle school. but that was _before_ adolescence graced minami. from her jersey you can tell she’s on the volleyball team, too—sinewy muscle and hardened calves. 

your lips dry. “yeah. that’s me.”

  
  


the universe decides to grace you after that. or maybe curse. 

“yamashita-san?”

you turn. umezawa minami stands on the same train platform as you. bound to get on the same car. 

“oh—umezawa-san, hello!” you greet. you move aside to accommodate her, and she stands beside you. you look up at her, the curl of her lashes and the curve of her lip. her hair is done differently today, two braids meeting at the back of her head. you notice she’s in the school uniform instead of her kit. 

before you could stop yourself, you tell her, “you’re pretty today.”

minami turns. blinks in surprise. you think her cheeks dust pink, but you don’t want to fool yourself. “i—thank you.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. you’re never this shy. never having this churning in your stomach. this loss for words. 

the train rumbles as it arrives, the chime dinging through the loudspeakers. you’re aware of everything—the hiss of the doors opening, the clicking of everyone’s footsteps, the distance minami is from you. 

you flex your hand on the strap of your bag. 

you take your usual position, standing just by the door. minami opts for an empty seat in the middle of the car. 

you don’t know if you want to stay this far or get even closer. 

  
  


“yes—and with cold foam, please. alright, thank you.”

the barista accepts your payment and starts on with your drink. you check the time. your phone reads 12:30. 

you pick up your drink when it’s ready and head to find an empty seat. but by the window, head bent over a pile of printed worksheets sits—

“umezawa,” you say out loud. accidentally. 

she looks up, and there’s surprise but also delight on her face. “if we’re going to keep meeting like this, then ume is fine, please.”

you grin. “my friends call me yama.”

she hums. “we match, then.” she tilts her head. smiles even wider. says, “yama.”

you like how the familiarity sounds in her tongue. her voice. the rasp at the edge of it. how you miss how she slightly lisps when she says _shita._ you purse your lips. 

“okay, _ume_ ,” you draw out. she laughs and scoffs. both at once. “i have these awful papers to finish. but i’ll see you around?”

she bites her lip. thoughtful. “i think i will.”

  
  


it happens again in a bookstore. 

it’s saturday. you spot her, from a distance. it’s not hard. you’ve learned to recognise it, the slant of her shoulders, the colour of her hair. she’s tall enough to reach the highest shelves. 

you don’t mean to stare. you do anyway. you had come to buy a gift for momoko and yuuki, but there she stands. you begin to wonder if naniwa-ku is smaller than you thought. 

you gather your courage. pull at the sleeves of your shirt. 

you step beside her and tap her shoulder. “ume-chan,” you greet. 

she jumps slightly. she seems to be easily surprised. 

she looks at you and her brow furrows. she clutches a book she’s picked to her chest. “yama,” she exhales. 

you wave. “hello.”

“we seem to keep meeting like this,” minami points out. “always an accident.”

“always outside school,” you add. 

“not during the first time.”

you blink. _oh_. “yeah—no. not that.”

she shifts her weight. adjusts the book she holds. it draws your attention. _conditioning for volleyball_ , the cover reads. 

“for the team?”

her eyes glaze over for a second, lost. you watch as she realises what you’ve asked and holds out the book. “this? yeah,” she replies. “we have this new recruit, and she’s from such a good middle school. i’ve been trying to figure out how to get her to gel with the team.”

you hum. you can tell she truly cares for her team. it draws you even further into a web umezawa minami doesn’t even know she’s built. and there’s a thought— _i want to see one of their practices_ —that tells you how doomed you are. “i hope that goes well,” you tell her. 

“thanks,” she replies. you take that as your cue to turn on your heel and leave. 

but then she calls—“wait.”

you turn back. 

she shifts on her feet again. fiddles her thumbs. inhales. blows it out. breathes in once more, and asks—“do you want to go to the summer festival next weekend?”

you tilt your head. “me?”

“so we can stop meeting by accident,” she adds. “ _plan_ it this time.” she tacks on a laugh. her eyes still wary. 

but then you process that she just asked you out. umezawa minami, object of your affections. subject of your dreams. shyly asking you to see her next weekend, and—

you can’t help yourself. you have to ask. “you’re asking me out on a—”

“yes. yes i am.” minami nods. fervent. “i, uh—i’ve liked you since middle school, actually.”

_that_ manages to seize your breath. make you choke on air. you’ve received confessions—dozens, at least, at this point—and you’ve made some, too. you wonder why you’d wasted time. planning, making sure it’s perfect. chocolates and flowers and poems. wasted time with other people you’d only planned on stringing along in the first place when—

there stands umezawa minami, in all her stunning simplicity. her feigned nonchalance. the shy bite of her lip. all making you wonder why you’d wasted time on other people when you could have had _her._

“yama, if this is—”

“i’d love to,” you exhale. you step closer. “i’ll—i’ll see you for the festival.”

she grins. 

“and for the record—” you swallow. “for the record, i like you, too.”

  
  


you meet just before sunset, not wanting to go to the festival when the sun is at its most merciless.

“hi,” she greets, in all her simplicity again. but she’s gorgeous in her yukata, her eyes bright, and now you ache to see her in all kinds of dress, in all seasons. 

“hello,” you say, and take her hand. 

you don’t let go of her the whole time. you go goldfish scooping. buy shaved ice. play all the prize games you see. minami smiles and laughs and you fall a little more each time. 

the moon hangs high and sweat sticks on your skin. the fireworks begin.

you look at minami. yearn to have her closer. 

so you do. tug on her sleeve until she turns to face you. tug on her sleeve again so her face is just above yours. feel her breaths on your lips. 

no one’s looking. all taken by the fireworks crackling above you. but you kiss minami, brief, taste her smile and her matcha flavoured shaved ice all the same. 

“we’ll be meeting more after this, i hope,” she says. nose still against yours. “and not by accident?”

you purse your lips to bite back a laugh. it comes out anyway. “no,” you tell her. “no, i don’t think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> >yes, i still set this in osaka even though both of them are from kanto. all the fics are supposed to be set in the same school, after all, even though i kind of failed at establishing that...   
>  >[whispers] the recruit minami is speaking of is hono ... lol 
> 
>   
> if you can tell, me and oomf’s headcanons involved the two of them being childhood friends, mizuki being kind of a fuckboy, and minami having a longtime crush on her and then a growth spurt that makes mizuki finally _see_ her, lmao.
> 
> ... and that’s the (official, final) end of this series, i hope! when i conceptualised this initially it was really seven, and then i cut it down to four when i thought i couldn’t write these last three, and then still wrote it anyway after sitting on it. hopefully none of my other just for laughs 46 ships decide to suddenly interact (still reeling from the fact that koike and pon almost exclusively blog about each other, like, wtf?)
> 
> please do let me know your thoughts either below or on [cc](http://curiouscat.me/pisceshorizon), it really keeps me going.
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
